


reminiscence

by shawtymiamor



Category: DC Extended Universe, DCU, DCU (Comics), Wonder Woman (Comics), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Goodbyes, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Oneshot, Sad Ending, Tragic Romance, WW84
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:42:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29110260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shawtymiamor/pseuds/shawtymiamor
Summary: "A hasty ending, but a beautiful goodbye."In other words, Diana learns to let go of Steve for the last time.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Trevor, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Steve Trevor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	reminiscence

_How long has it been?_

Diana Prince stands in front of the gravestone and stares numbly at the ground before her.

Her thoughts are blank; her careful pose shattered; and she is full of absolutely nothing as she fixes her eyes on the only thing that mattered.

The only thing that ever did: to her, but to everyone else. To the world.

Yet it is absolutely wrong, because this _isn’t_ the only thing that mattered. This is just a husk, an empty, meaningless place. Stones, old and ragged like her, placed carefully in a patch of land meant to have meaning to those who felt him precious. The edges are gritty and crumbling, and it is absolutely wrong, absolutely _unlike_ him, but it is the only place she can seek consolation. She hates it for being what it is.

Which is why there is this absolutely _shitty_ feeling within her. That one question that will never let her go: not _ever._

_How long has it been?_

There is a certain kind of duty, she thinks, to those who have caused them grief. Because they are the ones left behind, the ones with more time, the ones with more life, they are bound to these meaningless stones unable to run from those who left them behind. There _is_ a duty, but at the same time, it is through her own will.

He was the man who loved her so much, and she was the woman stupid enough to love him back.

Yes, she decides. That is him and her, summarized perfectly with even a bad ending to tie it off. The foolish boy and the lovestruck girl. Both too dumb to care about the world.

She knows why she is here, but she knows, at the same time, that she cannot do it. Instead, Diana closes her eyes; takes a deep breath; and she tilts her head back, feeling the warmth of sunlight against her face. No one else is around. No one cares.

Steve Trevor is all hers.

 _Till death do we part,_ he says, _and much, much more._

She can still remember every inch of him, like it had happened yesterday.

In all actuality, it has happened a week ago, and she had hidden herself, too afraid to go see him like she always did.

But today she has neglected her duties. In the museum, the museum where nothing else fucking matters because she can see him in every corner and every turn, people will wonder where shining, beautiful, _flawless_ Diana Prince has gone, because she is supposed to be on duty.

But he has called her here. And like a lost lover, she comes.

Every part of him is still in her mind. She is closing her eyes, but that makes it all the worse, with his reminiscent burned into her skin. The last night they had spent together, with his hands drawing fire on her body, and his mouth swift, and that sparkle in his eyes that seemed to whisper at her to try more, more, _more._

She opens her eyes, and for the last time, steels her resolve.

“Steve Trevor.” She says, and touches his gravestone.

Diana leans down. Her heels hurt her feet but it had been the right choice to wear them: he had always liked her with heels. Her fingertips graze the markings, gently, before placing a bouquet of flowers before them. Roses: he always said they looked like her.

She cannot talk. She does not deserve to talk: for what she has done, for what she will do, and what she is planning to do. Not ever.

And when she opens her mouth, and opens her eyes, and stands up to face the stone, there are only two words that can come out of her mouth, just barely. Two words she has said again and again to Stephen Trevor.

“I’m sorry.”

She is Wonder Woman, and she is sorry to none but Steve. That is the weight both of them carry. She is sorry for everything she did, for staying with him like the selfish woman she is, and he is sorry for leaving. Even though it is not his fault— _never_ his fault, _never—_ he is still sorry. He is always sorry to her. Even in her dreams: _Diana, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I loved you. I’m sorry I left so much behind, because I love you, and I’m sorry._

But she is sorry more. _She_ is wrong.

“I’m sorry.” She says. She is wearing a suit but she kneels anyways, her forehead touching the stone. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

He is smiling at her. _Hate me,_ she thinks, but she does not mean it. She wants him to love her just like he used to do.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, one final time.

When she looks up, and dusts off her trousers, and swallows back the tears, he is there, like he was never gone. Leaning against the gravestone. His aviator jacket is crooked, and his hair is brushed back as neatly as he can muster, and there is a fanny pack around his waist, just like he had been before he left, but it is undeniably him.

 _What’s there to be sorry about?_ He laughs. _You’re always sorry for everything._

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry.”

_Okay. I’ll roll with that. Why?_

“For everything.”

She swallows. He is so real she can reach out and touch him. His chiseled jaw and that dirty blonde hair she tugs at, that grin he _knows_ is so charming.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” She breathes. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess. I’m sorry you had to go through so much pain. I’m sorry you couldn’t meet a nice, normal woman and settle with her. I’m sorry I left you behind. I’m sorry I didn’t try hard enough.”

Steve taps the gravestone. He is staring at her with something like sadness. _I know you tried. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself, Diana._

Her eyes are blurring with tears, tears she has kept in for so long. She swipes them away, yet he is still there, like a whisper of a lie, standing out amongst all the blacks and whites. The only one with color.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find a way for us to be together.” He is staring at her. She stares back, and he is the most beautiful man in the world. “I wanted to; I never would have left; I _loved_ you, Steve. But I couldn’t save the one person I loved the most.”

The silence is deafening.

“I didn’t try hard enough.”

 _You did._ He reaches forwards, but his fingers are retracting, back, back. His warmth is not touching her and she needs more. _You did. This is just how we were supposed to be. You couldn’t have done anything, Diana._

“Don’t _Diana_ me.” She is dabbing at the tears that never seem to stop. “Don’t _ever_ Diana me. I’m sorry and you can’t change anything. _I_ can’t.”

_Diana-_

“I wanted to stay with you forever. I wanted to love you, and I wanted to be with you. That was all I wanted. Tell me, is that too hard?”

Her accent is falling through, thick and heavy. Steve Trevor loved her accent. He had kissed her throat and told her a million reasons why he loved her voice, and then he laid her on the bed and kissed her until she laughed.

“No.” Her voice trembles. “No, it wasn’t. I wanted to wake up at your side every morning, with pop tarts and a pot of coffee. I wanted to kiss you goodbye for work, where I would head to the Smithsonian, and you would go through your flight schedule for the day. I wanted to skip work and sneak out to have lunch with you, and I wanted to come back from work and see you at the doorway, to kiss you hello. I wanted to have dinner with you over a glass of wine and tell you everything about me, and I wanted to hear about your day while we watched television. I wanted to kiss you goodnight and sleep by your side, under the sheets, your arm around me. I wanted _just_ that. And _tell me, was that too much to ask for?_ ”

 _Diana._ That is all he says.

“ _Was that too much to fucking ask for?_ ”

She realizes she is crying.

… _no._

“Then kiss me.”

His eyes snap up. _Diana-_

“Kiss me. Right now.”

_You know I can’t._

“I don’t care. Kiss me.”

_You know- you know I can’t, Diana, you have to understand. I can’t kiss you. I can’t._

“I don’t fucking care. Kiss me.”

_I want to. For god’s sake, of course I want to._

“Then kiss me.”

_…I can’t._

“Why?” Tears are streaming down her face, heavy with mascara and make-up and all those things that will never matter, not with the lack of Steve Trevor in this world. “ _Why_ can’t you kiss me?”

 _Because I’m not real, Diana._ Steve smiles at her. This must hurt him as much as it does her, but he is still smiling at her. _Because all that time ago, the moment in that chaos, when the world was ending, you finally let me go._

“I _didn’t!_ ” She screams. “I _didn’t let you go! I WILL NEVER LET YOU GO, STEVE TREVOR!_ ”

His hands are on her face. He kisses her cheek. _You have to. I love you, Diana Prince. Never forget that._

“…I won’t. I won’t let you.”

Her resolve is weakening and he knows it. Diana knows it is true. That someday, she will let him go, and someday, he will smile and that will be the last of him. That no matter how hard she tries to hang on, he will keep trying to push her away and into this world. Someday, she will succumb to Steve: the only person she ever had a weakness for. She loves him, and because he loves her, he pushes her away.

Diana looks at him. He is smiling, and she drinks up every part of him: that dirty blonde hair, that mischievous smile, those eyes that say, _I got your back._ That way he just _swaggers_ into her life, but stays with the most awkward smile she has ever seen, the one that makes her want to dive into his arms and kiss him. The way he strokes her palm with his hand, rough and calloused. The way he kisses her, his mouth firm, and the way he holds her: winding around her waist, hands treating her like she is the most precious woman alive. He had done so much more than love her: he had respected her.

“Steve Trevor.” She says, and reaches out, even though she can’t touch him. “Just answer me this.”

_Anything. Anything, Diana._

“Are you happy?”

He is silent, but the next time he speaks, her world explodes into colors.

_Yes. And I’ll wait for you, Diana Prince, no matter how long it takes._

“…I’ll come and visit.”

_I know you will._

“I love you, Steve Trevor.”

_I love you, Diana Prince._

He touches her, one last time. A ghost of a kiss. _Goodbye._

“Goodbye, Steve.”

Her heels are in her hand as she walks away, and he never once calls her back.

That is the last time she sees Steve Trevor. A hasty ending, but a beautiful goodbye.


End file.
